La Bala
El martillo impacta la aguja
La explosión de la pólvora con fuerza empuja
Movimiento de rotación y traslación
Sale la bala arrojada fuera del cañón
Con un objetivo directo
La bala pasea segura y firme durante su trayecto
Hiriendo de muerte al viento, más rápida que el tiempo
Defendiendo cualquier argumento
No le importa si su destino es violento
Va tranquila, la bala, no tiene sentimientos
Como un secreto que no quieres escuchar
La bala va diciéndolo todo sin hablar
Sin levantar sospecha, asegura su matanza
Por eso tiene llena de plomo su panza
Para llegar a su presa no necesita ojos
Y más cuando el camino se lo traza un infrarojo
La bala nunca se da por vencida
Si no mata hoy, por lo menos deja una herida
Luego de su salida no habrá detenida
Obedece a su patrono solo una vez en su vida
Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balas
Hay poca comida, pero hay muchas balas
Hay poco gente buena, por eso hay muchas balas
Cuidao' que ahí viene una (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)
Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balas
Hay poca comida, pero hay muchas balas
Hay poco gente buena, por eso hay muchas balas
Cuidao' que ahí viene una (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)
Se escucha un disparo, agarra confianza
El sonido la persigue, pero no la alcanza
La bala sacas sus colmillos de acero
Y sin pedir permiso, entra por el cuero
Muerde los tejidos con rabia y arranca
El pecho a las arterias para causar hemorragia
Vuela la sangre batida de fresa
Salsa boloñesa, sirop de frambuesa
Una cascada de arte contemporáneo
Color rojo vivo, sale por el cráneo
Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balas
Hay poca comida, pero hay muchas balas
Hay poco gente buena, por eso hay muchas balas
Cuidao' que ahí viene una (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)
Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balas
Hay poca comida, pero hay muchas balas
Hay poco gente buena, por eso hay muchas balas
Cuidao' que ahí viene una (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)
Sería inaccesible el que alguien te mate
Si cada bala costara lo que cuesta un yate
Tendrías que ahorrar todo tu salario
Para ser un mercenario, habría que ser millonario
Pero no es así, se mata por montones
Las balas son igual de baratas que los condones
Hay poca educación, hay muchos cartuchos
Cuando se lee poco, se dispara mucho
Hay quienes asesinan y no dan la cara
El rico da la orden y el pobre la dispara
No se necesitan balas para probar un punto
Es lógico, no se puede hablar con un difunto
El diálogo destruye cualquier situación macabra
Antes de usar balas, disparo con palabras
Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!
Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balas
Hay poca comida, pero hay muchas balas
Hay poco gente buena, por eso hay muchas balas
Cuidao' que ahí viene una (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)
Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balas
Hay poca comida, pero hay muchas balas
Hay poco gente buena, por eso hay muchas balas
Cuidao' que ahí viene una (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)
The Bullet
The hammer hits the needle
The explosion of gunpowder forcefully pushes
Rotational and translational movement
The bullet is thrown out of the barrel
With a direct target
The bullet walks safely and firmly during its journey
Fatally injuring the wind, faster than time
Defending any argument
It doesn't matter if its destiny is violent
The bullet goes calmly, it has no feelings
Like a secret you don't want to hear
The bullet says it all without speaking
Without raising suspicion, it ensures its killing
That's why its belly is full of lead
To reach its prey it doesn't need eyes
Especially when the path is traced by infrared
The bullet never gives up
If it doesn't kill today, at least it leaves a wound
After its exit, there will be no stopping
It obeys its master only once in its life
There's little money, but there are many bullets
There's little food, but there are many bullets
There are few good people, that's why there are many bullets
Watch out, here comes one (Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!)
There's little money, but there are many bullets
There's little food, but there are many bullets
There are few good people, that's why there are many bullets
Watch out, here comes one (Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!)
A shot is heard, it gains confidence
The sound pursues it, but doesn't catch it
The bullet shows its steel fangs
And without asking permission, enters through the skin
It bites the tissues with rage and tears
The chest to the arteries to cause hemorrhage
The blood flies like beaten strawberry
Bolognese sauce, raspberry syrup
A waterfall of contemporary art
Bright red color, comes out through the skull
There's little money, but there are many bullets
There's little food, but there are many bullets
There are few good people, that's why there are many bullets
Watch out, here comes one (Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!)
There's little money, but there are many bullets
There's little food, but there are many bullets
There are few good people, that's why there are many bullets
Watch out, here comes one (Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!)
It would be unaffordable for someone to kill you
If each bullet cost as much as a yacht
You would have to save all your salary
To be a mercenary, you would have to be a millionaire
But it's not like that, people are killed in heaps
Bullets are as cheap as condoms
There's little education, there are many cartridges
When there's little reading, there's a lot of shooting
There are those who murder and don't show their face
The rich give the order and the poor shoot
Bullets are not needed to prove a point
It's logical, you can't talk to the dead
Dialogue destroys any macabre situation
Before using bullets, I shoot with words
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
There's little money, but there are many bullets
There's little food, but there are many bullets
There are few good people, that's why there are many bullets
Watch out, here comes one (Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!)
There's little money, but there are many bullets
There's little food, but there are many bullets
There are few good people, that's why there are many bullets
Watch out, here comes one (Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!)